


Behind the Garden Wall

by MarvelousMenagerie (HiddenOne)



Series: 2018 Stony Fairy Tale Bingo [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rapunzel Fusion, Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Mpreg, Pregnant Steve Rogers, Stony Fairy Tale Bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 03:34:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiddenOne/pseuds/MarvelousMenagerie
Summary: Steve is pregnant and ill, and he needs to eat rampion to recover.Tony finds some... but every thief has to pay a price.





	Behind the Garden Wall

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the Stony Fairy Tale Bingo square: Rapunzel

Yinsen eases the bedroom door closed.

“How is he?” Tony asks.

Yinsen motions for Tony to follow him as he walks to the front door. It’s not far - only a few steps because Tony couldn’t afford anything larger.

“He is ill, as you have seen,” Yinsen says, his voice low and soft. He is being kind, Tony notes, and that fills him with dread.

“And?” Tony prompts, throat tight.

Yinsen sighs and rubs his forehead. “If it were summer, fall, or even early winter, then there would be an easy remedy for his pain. But this late in winter… I do not know.”

“It’s the pregnancy,” Tony states, tired.

Yinsen nods.

Tony scrubs his face. The pregnancy hadn’t been planned. The pregnancy hadn’t, in Tony’s case, been _wanted_. Steve had enough health issues on his own, he certainly didn’t need the additional complications of pregnancy on top of it. Somehow, though, Steve had talked Tony around into keeping the child, though now that might cost Steve his own life and Tony… Tony can’t handle losing Steve.

“Is there nothing that can be done?” Tony asks. He begs.

He can’t lose Steve. Tony will crawl back to his father on his belly if he has to, will somehow find a way to convince Howard to help Tony save Steve.

Howard had disowned Tony when he had ignored Howard’s protests and married the sickly son of the town’s midwife. Howard still continues to hold a grudge, still tries to ruin Tony’s blacksmithing business by bribing, stealing, and driving away potential customers. The tactics aren’t subtle and don’t have to be - Howard Stark has enough money to do whatever he wants.

Still, Tony would find a way.

Yinsen sighs. “Rampion. He needs to eat rampion with every meal for a week. It will settle his stomach and soothe the child.”

“Rampion,” Tony repeats, his mind whirling. He knows the plant, with its spiky purple flower and broad leaves. It’s a hardy plant, but they are deep in late winter now. Not even Howard’s money would make plants magically grow. “There is nothing else?”

“I will see if I have anything else that will work,” Yinsen offers, but his grimace doesn’t offer Tony any hope.

Tony looks away. “And if there is nothing?”

“Then we wait and see, Mr. Stark.”

Tony sees Yinsen out the door, promising to return Yinsen’s tools, both medical and culinary, newly sharpened as they had agreed. The price of the house visit, and one of the few prices that Tony can afford to pay. The barter system kept Tony and Steve fed over the winter, but right now they barely had enough for two. Tony isn’t sure how they will feed a third mouth if the child manages to survive.

Tony enters the bedroom, and Steve peeks his head out from underneath the pile of blankets on the bed.

“Tony?” Steve rasps.

“Hey darling,” Tony greets as he perches on the edge of the bed. He rests a light hand on the lump that should be Steve’s shoulder, but at least Tony has found thick enough blankets that he’s not sure exactly where he’s landed. “See, that wasn’t so terrible was it?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “At least Yinsen had work for you so you aren’t starving yourself.”

Tony clamps down on a smile. Steve had argued against seeing Yinsen, not because Steve wasn’t sick enough to need medical attention, but because they had little to offer in exchange. Tony would happily barter away his share of food for Steve to see a doctor, but tonight that hadn’t been necessary. And in any case, Yinsen’s tools hardly needed sharpening as it was. Tony will do his best to polish them anyway and then pay Yinsen back sometime in the future for his kindness. Still, if only the visit had yielded a solution. Rampion - a plant, of all things.

“You should get some sleep,” Tony suggests.

Steve burrows under the covers more despite the sweat dotting his forehead. “You should join me. He said I wasn’t contagious.”

“Exactly, so there was no need for you to worry about me, just like I told you.”

Steve snorts.

Tony takes a moment to dose the candles and slip into his night clothes. Then he slides under the covers next to Steve, making sure to keep his cold toes away from Steve’s legs. Tony wraps an arm around Steve, and notices with a pang how delicate Steve’s ribs feel underneath the sleep shirt. Steve’s womb protrudes over the top of Steve’s pants, but the bump is still too small for how far along Steve is, and Tony doesn’t touch it for fear of hurting Steve or the baby.

“We’ll be fine,” Steve whispers, ever the optimist.

If Steve’s mother was still alive, or if Steve had inherited her midwife skills, than maybe Tony would believe him. Right now rampion is what Tony needs, what Steve needs.

“Yes we will,” Tony promises. He lays a gentle kiss on Steve’s temple.

Tony will find a way.

 

 

 

Tony spreads the word: everyone in town knows he is looking for rampion, even his father. Howard would certainly hoard the rampion and use it as leverage, but Tony will gladly dance over that bridge if it comes to that because that means there was rampion to be had. As it is, the town finds none, Howard hoards none, and Tony has none.

Steve gets worse. He is weak and feverish, unable to eat and the hungry and restless baby rarely lets Steve get any sleep. He needs rampion. Yinsen has no backup remedy for something so easily cured in any other season.

Tony keeps hunting. He scours the woods around town in wider and wider circles, walking and digging through piles of snow and finding nothing but cold, hard dirt. There were no rampion plants left withering in the ground. Still, Tony keeps hunting.

On the tenth day, Tony travels farther yet and finds a wall. Behind the wall is a house with more levels than Tony has ever seen built on top of each other before. Tony would ask about the design and building of such a house (and maybe be invited inside to warm up) only he circles the entire wall to find that there is no door or gate.

Tony has been out searching for hours. Steve will glare and yell, to the extent that Steve can, at Tony over how long he’s been gone. Tony’s fingers ache with the cold, his toes feel like ice, and he’s rapidly losing light that he will need to be able to navigate back home.

Curiosity burns within him though, and Tony climbs the wall. The stacked rocks are uneven enough to provide more than adequate hand and footholds so that even partially frozen Tony manages to crest the top with ease. Perhaps this is why there is no gate, Tony muses, only then what was the point of the wall anyway?

Tony peeks over, casing the ground for any movement on the other side such as an angry owner or additional defenses. He sees nothing, and pokes his head up more.

The house is dark, with no candles in the windows or smoke coming from the chimney. The grounds are clear.

Tony stares.

The grounds are clear of _snow_. Instead of a barren winter landscape, green leafy plants pop out of the dirt in perfectly aligned rows. The greenery stretches from the edge of the wall right up to the door of the house, with only small gravel paths that break up the garden.

Is this a hallucination? Did Tony fall asleep in some snowbank with this as his dying dream?

His fingers are too cold to offer a good pinch, so Tony slaps himself instead. Pain flares in his face. He’s not dead yet.

But how could these plants be growing this late in winter?

The question flees his mind when he sees the broad, green leaves beneath a bright, spiky purple flower.

Rampion.

Immediately Tony hops over the wall and makes his way over to the multiple rows of purple. He removes his glove, and even with the lingering chill Tony can feel the rasp of the leaf against his fingertips. The rampion is real. Tony has found what Steve needs.

Tony looks up at the house, but there’s still no sign of movement. Perhaps this place is abandoned? But someone has to be taking care of these gardens, at the very least clearing away the snow.

The small sack Tony has carried with him as a token of hope will not fit all the rampion that grows in the garden. He uproots as many plants as he can stuff inside, taking the plants from different stretches along the rows to disguise his theft. The dirt is warm and soft under his hands, nothing like the frozen ground that’s on the other side of the wall, but there’s no one to explain the mystery.

Tony nibbles on the end of a fleshy rampion root, dirt and all. If it’s somehow poisonous, he’ll hopefully figure that out before he makes it all the way back home and gives it to Steve.

Tony takes one last look around - still no changes other than his own - and he climbs the wall again.

He marks his way home to make sure he’ll be able to return.

 

 

 

“Where did you get this?” Steve asks in wonder as Tony offers him the bowl containing a heal of cooked rampion roots with bits of the leaves, just wilted over the fire. Yinsen had approved the methods though was equally curious where Tony managed to find plants in full bloom in deep winter.

“The ground, of course, where plants grow,” Tony teases, his heart feeling like it’d beat out of his chest.

He even has a hunk of bread to offer Steve along with the salad. Tony has to fix the lock on the baker’s door tomorrow in exchange, but the task won’t be difficult. Steve’s continued plight had thrown a bit more sympathy work Tony’s way, the threat of Howard less great in comparison. Tony has every intention of capitalizing on it, especially now with hope at hand.

“Tell me you didn’t sell yourself back to your father for this,” Steve orders. “Well, tell me the _truth_.”

“Howard has nothing to do with this,” Tony promises.

Steve eyes Tony, still skeptical, but he uses the bread to scoop up some of the rampion into his mouth without any protest.

Tony forces Steve to eat it all, even as Steve tries to decline. He tries to share with Tony, even just a piece of the bread, but Tony refuses.

In truth he’s not even hungry. Steve needs the rampion and anything else that Steve’s stomach can keep down. Tony isn’t the one eating for two, and he’s feeling full on success.

Only when the bowl is completely empty does Tony take it away, and Steve settles back down to sleep. There’s no immediate change but that would be too much to hope for, Yinsen had warned. Tony is a bit disappointed anyway when Steve’s face remains pale, but he brushes the hair off Steve’s forehead and then leans down to kiss it.

Steve needs more rampion.

Tony cooks the remaining plants he’d taken, feeding them to Steve for breakfast and then lunch. Tony fixes the lock for the baker easily enough, and then he goes back to the garden behind the wall.

There are no additional footprints other than Tony’s own. There is no movement within the house. No one comes out to disturb Tony when he takes more plants and stuffs them into his sack. He’d brought a bigger one, this time.

There’s still plenty of rampion left for the owner, Tony justifies. Besides, it’s not like rampion is actually delicious - at least according to Steve.

Perhaps he should feel guilty for his stealing, but Tony doesn’t. He takes the rampion home and cooks more for Steve’s dinner. Now, Steve is starting to look better, healthier. Even as Steve washes down another mouthful of rampion, he eats more heartiedly than he has in the past six months.

Tony goes back to the garden for the third time. This should be the last, based on Yinsen’s advisement. Steve is coming along well and his dosage of rampion is almost complete. Tony could take other food from the garden to keep them fed this winter…

“Who dares steal from me?”

Tony jerks up, startled. He’d seen and heard no one, but now a man stands in front of him. The man stares down at Tony in anger, his body wreathed in a black cloak but the hood down to reveal his bald head.

Tony stands up, but the man is still several inches taller.

“My name is Tony Stark,” he admits. Everyone in the area knows that he has been looking for rampion, there seems little point in lying. He tightens his grip on his bag, the rampion that he needs already stuffed inside. He’s so close to getting Steve back to healthy; he can’t fail now. “I’m a blacksmith in the town just east of here.”

The man continues to glare. “What is a blacksmith doing thieving in my garden?”

“My husband is sick. He needs rampion.”

“And so you thought to steal it from me?”

Tony squares his shoulders and clutches his bag tightly. “Yours is the only rampion around. It’s late winter on the other side of that wall.”

“That is not my problem,” the man sneers.

Tony clenches his jaw, then relaxes. He tries for sympathy from this man. “Please, my husband is very ill. What I have in this bag is all that he needs to fully recover. I’m happy to work off the debt that I owe you, just let me get this home to him.”

“I have no need for a blacksmith,” the man dismisses. “No. No...the price for your theft is your firstborn child.”

“What?” Tony yelps as he reels back.

“Your firstborn child for the rampion.”

Tony shakes his head. “I have no children.”

“But you will,” the man says. He seems to loom larger, and Tony isn’t sure if it’s because he is moving closer, little by little, or if Tony is shrinking in the wake of such an idea.

“You can’t be sure of that.”

“If you never have any children, then you may simply take the rampion with no payment,” the man says, a cruel grin plastered across his face.

Tony thinks. Once Steve is healthy, then they could have more children. What life could Tony offer this first child, with a cold house and little food? Would the child even survive their first few months? This man has plenty and clearly knows how to keep winter at bay. Steve will never forgive him, but at least Steve will be _alive_.

“Who are you and what need do you have for a child?” Tony stalls.

The man stops looming, but Tony doesn’t see him move. “I am Obadiah Stane, and I am simply a lonely man who could use some company.”

“For all your loneliness I have not seen you in town,” Tony points out. He looks for a quick escape, but he had forgotten - the wall does not have a gate.

Stane frowns. “My business is my own.”

“You want my child. I want to know they will be cared for.”

“Cared for? And what have you to offer your child? Look at you,” Stane sneers. “You’re already half-starved, your clothes are threadbare. Your husband is no doubt the same, and you must steal to heal him when he’s ill. The only thing you will give your child is a cold, hungry death.”

Tony goes rigid. His words are spit back at him, the words he’d used to argue with Steve when it was still early enough to end the pregnancy before it had truly begun. Steve, who had refused every argument. Steve, who thinks they will make due. Steve, who grew up with nothing.

Tony, on the other hand, grew up with a lot. He had been warm, he had been well-fed, he had been healthy. His father’s house had everything that Stane is currently offering. Tony wants that for his child, wishes he could provide it.

But he remembers his father’s house. He remembers how all that he had was still not enough - not enough love, not enough care. Tony can’t hand over his child to a man who does not build a gate in his walls. A man  who does not show any sympathy over a sick spouse. A man who would dare to ask for a child as payment to ease a self-inflicted loneliness. Would even Howard have ever stooped so low?

No, Tony can’t hand any child over to this man. He and Steve will find a way. They may rely on Yinsen’s kindness, on the baker’s sympathy, on the charity of the town, but they will find a way.

Tony shakes his head. “No. You may not have my child, firstborn or otherwise.”

“You dare refuse me?” Stane asks, voice dangerously quiet.

“I will not pass the punishment of my crime onto my child. The price is mine to pay.”

Stane grins. His eyes light up in blue fire and Tony stumbles back in horror. He reaches for Tony with a hand wreathed in blue flames.

“So be it.”


End file.
